The Redhead knows all about risk.
Last night, she was with him
flirting, trifling, letting
his hand brush her breast
just for the rush. This morning, she's
finished with him. And if you
have the guts to askwhich I always do
shell tell you, he was just
one more hormonal storm
in a lifetime of lousy weather,
another too-smart stranger
helping her into his car, helping her
out of her clothes, another calamity
with her name tattooed on his butt.